"Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. For as we share abundantly in Christ's sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too. If we are afflicted, it is for your comfort and salvation; and if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which you experience when you patiently endure the same sufferings that we suffer. Our hope for you is unshaken, for we know that as you share in our sufferings, you will also share in our comfort.
For we do not want you to be ignorant brothers, of the affliction we experienced in Asia. For we were so utterly burdened beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself. Indeed, we felt that we had received the sentence of death. But that was to make us rely not on ourselves, but on God who raises the dead. He delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us. On him we have set our hope that he will deliver us again. You also must help us by prayer, so that many will give thanks on our behalf for the blessing granted us through the prayers of many." 2 Corinthians 1:3-11
"I will exalt you, Lord for you lifted me out of the depths and did not let my enemies gloat over me.
Lord, my God, I called to you for help and you healed me.
You, Lord brought me up from the realm of the dead; you spared me from going down to the pit.
Sing praises of the Lord, you his faithful people; praise his Holy name. For his anger lasts only a moment, but his favor lasts a lifetime; weeping may stay for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning." Psalm 30:1-5
The funny thing about a tough week that when you look back at the events preceding it, nothing would have prepared you for the reality of what was about to transpire. The beginning of this week began normal, turned into heartache, led to trial and has finally come to a close joyfully. Some descriptions to follow may seem graphic so I apologize in advance, but Juliet and I want people to understand what happened, so that by our strength and reliance on God, we can be a witness to others in this situation. We are not fully done grieving, but we reserve that for private prayer and contemplation.
The week began on Sunday and Monday with eager anticipation for Juliet's doctor visit on Tuesday. There was talk of the joy of finding out we might be having twins, and of just seeing another ultrasound in general. The first view of our baby had been so wonderful, we expected it to be that much more so as the baby had grown.
Monday
My mom moved down on Monday to start her new job, which is a huge blessing itself. She took a leap of faith (nudged gently along by Joe, Juliet and myself) and ended up being hired at the equivalent of the exact same job she had been laid off of 6 months prior. After so much job hunting, I'm sure the blessing of God's restoration of her role that she loved so much was as joyful to her as it was to us.
We have wanted all of our family to be in Austin since first moving here, so to finally have a portion of it, we felt very blessed. We spent Monday night toying around with pictures on the internet, combining Juliet and I to see what a child might look like. We closed the night restful and ready for the work week (Tues-Sat is our work week).
Tuesday
Juliet was feeling a bit odd as we got to the doctor Tuesday, and when the doppler ultrasound didn't find signs of a heartbeat our stomachs dropped a bit. We were assured that for 11 weeks this was normal on the audio version, and needed to do an actual ultrasound to get better results.
We made our way back into the room where our hearts had first leapt for joy at the sight of our baby 3 weeks earlier. The first ultrasound had taken awhile to locate the baby. This time, the technician found it right away. My stomach felt better for a moment. Then she said she couldn't find the heartbeat. I still felt inside like this was simply normal and that it was just a machine malfunction. Then she told us our baby hadn't grown past 8 1/2 weeks (we were at week 11 by then).
My eyes welled up, but I held back tears to be strong for Juliet. I could see the look of shock in her eyes as well. The technician isn't allowed to say anything, but we both knew what was going on.
When her doctor came back in, there was no question. She explained that this was simply an unfortunate occurrence in 1 of every 5 pregnancies, and that there is no cause or explanation. The placenta had somehow detached and our baby had passed away sometime 3 weeks earlier.
We looked at each other and felt spiritually sound and peaceful. Mentally and physically; however, the worst was to come. We talked briefly without the doctor, and acknowledged that because we had not caused it, we would simply rely on God's strength to get us through.
The Christian life is not one promised free of trial, and we understood that. We accepted and began trying to find out how our baby would get out of Juliet's body. This was the part most trying for her, as there are many questions that arise when you go from having life in the womb to not.
The doctor explained that she was far enough beyond our baby's death that it shouldn't take long to miscarriage naturally. Juliet asked if it would hurt, and for the first time I noticed the doctor's look change. She said yes, and it began to dawn on us that this was going to still be more painful. The alternative, a D&C, would allow the baby to be removed via minor surgery. We opted to wait a few days to try to make a decision.
We came home and took a long walk, talked about things, and realized that despite the physical and emotional pain to come, we would rest solid on Christ and let our example be a witness to others (Christian or not). We decided to be open about what happened so that others in our situation could understand the peace that came in the midst of struggle by our faith in Christ.
Wednesday
Juliet and I continued to inform our close friends and family of what had transpired, and she made the appointment with the doctor to schedule a D&C if it had not passed naturally by Friday. We slept ok on Wednesday knowing that soon we could move on and begin grieving. We loved the baby, but knew that what was left inside Juliet was simply physical remains, and the baby's soul was already resting safe in Jesus's arms.
Thursday (Juliet's Birthday)
I don't think either of us could have predicted what happened Thursday. Juliet woke up around 6 am when my mom got up to leave for work. As soon as she left, Juliet realized she was bleeding. We figured a little was normal and still planned to make her 9:30 doctor's appointment to set up the D&C if necessary. By 7am it was a constant flow of blood and as she began to turn white, I realized (as did she) that we needed to get to the hospital.
I called the ER ahead to let them know we were supposed to have a 9:30 with her doctor, but that she was bleeding enough to warrant a quicker visit. We took some towels and drove as quickly as possible. The drive was worrisome, but I tried to be strong. She was drinking water and beginning to get some color back.
We arrived at the ER and immediately realized she was losing too much blood too fast. They got her into a room quickly.
What followed was hard to bear, seeing her pain as things passed and blood continued flowing. An hour later, she was feeling like the worst was over. She was hooked into an IV and talking naturally. The IV began making her cold, so they removed it. Her lips then turned white and her color vanished. I ran to get a nurse to check her, and they very casually examined her and put a washcloth on her face. As scary as it seemed, I assumed if the nurse was not concerned it was fine. They monitored her blood pressure over the next hour or so, and it never rose above 80/50. Her pulse stayed normal at 85 and we were assured this was a good sign. She was asked to continue waiting to see if more passed.
They brought in the ultrasound technician to check for remains and make sure that the D&C (scheduled now for 1pm) was necessary. Juliet's color returned during this time and I relaxed a little. The surgery was scheduled and we simply needed to rest and wait. This was around 11:30 and we had been in the room 3 hours.
I noticed that when they had Juliet on an IV she felt fine, but when removed, she would drop Blood pressure dramatically and turn white. What I didn't notice was that for the past 3 hours the blood had not stopped.
Around noon they came and swapped the IV one more time and added a bit of medicine to it. Immediately, things turned for the worse. Her Blood pressure was down near 60/30 though her pulse was steady at 85. Her face went pale and once again I grabbed the nurse. This time a different nurse came, and the moment she walked in the room I realized things were going very wrong. Soon 4 nurses and the ER doctor were in there hooking things into her, and talking of blood transfusion. She had ordered blood that matched Juliet earlier in case of massive blood loss, but the tech had messed up and the blood was not there. Luckily, Juliet is 0 positive and can receive 0 negative so they began hooking her up to a unit of blood to replenish. Her hemoglobin was down near 6 out of 12, and she had lost nearly 2 pints at this point.
They called the surgeon and pushed the surgery to take place immediately. They poked and prodded and hooked her to many tubes while the doctors looked less than calm. I sat in there watching helplessly, trying to give her quick glances so she would know I was still there. I prayed fervently. I knew deep down that God was in control, and prayed that He use the doctors well to heal her. I prayed for God's presence to take over the room and the surgery, so that the doctors (believers or not) would be guided through a successful surgery.
We kissed goodbye after talking with the anesthesiologist and I went into the waiting area. I called my dad and others to update them on the situation. The surgery would only take 10 minutes they had said, and because of the transfused blood, everything should go well.
I had to rely simply on faith and prayer at this point because I knew she had lost enough blood that there was a strong possibility of things going wrong.
At my weakest point, our worship leader from church showed up. I had texted him updates, but not expected him to come. It was the faith boost I needed as we sat and chatted about similar experiences. By the time the doctor came out I was feeling more secure. He said the surgery was fine, despite the blood loss leading up to it.
He said they may have to give her another unit of blood, but he hoped that wasn't the case as that carried risk of bodily rejection and in a worst case scenario, higher risk of blood diseases. Finally, they said I could see her, but that she was still in phase 1 and I could only see her a moment. We went inside and she looked much better. I told her I would run home and get some paperwork she needed, and let the dogs out while she finished recovering.
Upon arriving back, I was told she had been given the second unit of blood and that they wanted to keep her overnight for observation.
Because the hospital we were at is apparently a Christian hospital, they offer a mass burial of the remains. A chaplain conducts a memorial service for the lost little ones, and sends a card in the mail with the location, should the parents want to visit. We felt this fitting to the circumstances that our baby could still have a burial, and opted to let them do that.
We spent the night feeling grateful to God for making it through the traumatic experience. If losing the unborn child wasn't enough, I felt like I had nearly lost my wife as well. We didn't realize until afterwards that she had basically bled nonstop for 4 hours. She had lost so much blood that even after transfusing 2 units, they said she was still only an 8 out of 12 on the hemoglobin. Iron pills and prenatal vitamins for 6 weeks was the prescription to begin building her blood back.
We prayed a lot that night, and realized just how blessed we were with friend and family who were concerned for her health. I announced the basics on Facebook after we carefully decided what to say, and let our situation be open to others. The outpouring of support carried us through the night, and continues to do so even now.
Friday, Saturday and Sunday
I took off work to be with her the rest of the weekend. We slept all day Friday recuperating, and spent time with my mom and Joe on Saturday.
Sunday Renewal
When I got to church today and reflected back on the week, I could not help but feel blessed. There are people who experience miscarriages and it destroys their relationships and their mindset. We are not saying there won't be more sadness and grieving, but we grieve with hope. We know where our baby has gone and look forward to meeting him or her someday. That comfort does not come outside of Christ. The world grieves without hope, but as Christians, our hope is in Christ and our comfort comes only from Him. This is why from the moment we found out our baby had no heartbeat on Tuesday, we still gave glory to God. We thanked God for the time we had to carry our baby. Certainly the anticipation itself was a blessing.
We reflected on how my mom and Joe were now in Austin, close by. Perhaps the knowledge of a future grandchild had been the extra boost that got them here. Either way, it fell within God's plan and God's time.
I read a post yesterday about a "God who isn't there" and it struck me as odd that people could really live and think that way. The post itself was in poor taste being posted shortly after our ordeal, as the poster knew what we had been through. That aside, everything it said was the opposite of truth. God WAS there when our baby's heart stopped beating, and God HAD a purpose we may not understand this side of Heaven.
God is sovereign over all, and a reliance on that is the only lasting comfort that can be found in tragic times like this. Do we wish we could have our baby 8 months from now? Yes, more than anything. Are we mad at God? Not in the slightest.
Baptism
People have said before that Satan tries hardest to shake the believers the closer they get to God. We certainly could have cursed God this week and turned from our faith. It would have been the easy road, and many would not have faulted us.
Instead, God had planned the week's events to lead up to the culmination of a hard week. My baptism.
When I committed to being baptized a few weeks back, I could ever have known what the circumstances would be the week before. Certainly, publicly affirming my faith in Christ via baptism would have been easy with a normal week full of blessing.
But, God decided this week would be a time of maturing for me. God wanted my public commitment to be based on true faith, unwavering even in times of tragedy. I'm not sure if the loss of our child fully coincided with this for a reason, but I can accept that if it did. I certainly came through more faithful and more committed than ever to follow Christ.
The power of the Holy Spirit is all that could cause this comfort. How else would I celebrate my savior the week after my baby was taken?
As a maturing believer, it was time to profess my faith and move forward.
Juliet went through much more physically than myself, but she is most assuredly on the same page spiritually. We do not curse God or blame God. We celebrate God. We are thankful for the time we had with our little one, and look forward to a time when we can again try to bring a life into this world. We take it one day at a time, looking to Christ for strength, and strengthening each other as best we can. We will not let our marriage fail over something we could not control. We will not lose faith in God and God's truth because we face hardship.
Trial and tribulation lead to maturity. Adversity shows us that we need help apart from ourselves. People can try to heal themselves, and they may sometimes succeed. But, how much greater to cast our burdens on the one who makes our yoke easy? How much simpler to let God do the healing? We do not cop out as people may say by living in faith. We trust God's word, and move forward. And, even in the hardest of times, we see that Joy comes in the mourning.
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